Carrie's Misadventure
by OutbackWombat
Summary: After a successful, but exhausting, mission, a series of unfortunate events take their toll on Carrie.


"Oh, Frank, do we have to?" Carrie complained loudly.

"Well, you are already here, so you have no valid excuse –" He cut off at her glare, and corrected himself, "No excuse that they would understand or accept. So you may as well go."

Even Rose was looking for an out. "We just spent a whole night saving the country, and this is the thanks that we get – to go to school when we're all exhausted."

"Not to mention, _starving_ ," Carrie piped in.

"I agree, you have done very well and deserve a break, but education is compulsory at your age; and who am I, as a responsible adult, to deny you an education?"

"And as a responsible adult, you have the power to make an excuse for us," Oscar argued.

"Absolutely not. I am not forging a legal document for such a matter as this."

Carrie sighed and rolled her eyes exasperatedly, "All right, fine, we'll go to school. But you'd better not take a sick day; not when we have to work."

"Oh, no – don't worry, I will be working. I've got some new gadgets lined up; they just need a bit of tweaking. I will be just as busy as you, if not more. You all have the day off spy work. Unless something big comes up, I will see you tomorrow."

"Well, at least that's one small mercy," Rose conceded.

They submitted to their fate, gave their farewells, and exited via the lift.

* * *

"Come on, class, in you come." Mr. Flatley ushered the reluctant teenagers in. He was rather surprised to find that his best students were not heading the pack, but trailing along the back, and looking most averse to entering the classroom. Perhaps they'd had some sort of upset, and would come out of their funk throughout the course of the day.

The class settled, and Mr. Flatley began his lesson. Rose tried her hardest to concentrate, while the session went completely over the heads of the other two agents.

During one of her lapses in concentration, Rose noticed that Carrie has her head on her desk, not asleep, but rubbing at her temples.

Carrie was regretting not protesting further to Frank. Her head was pounding in time with her erratic heartbeat, and her eyes simply refused to stay open. [When they were open, they dried out and it felt like they were on fire].

Worse still, her stomach was twisting and turning painfully. Even bent double over the desk and barely moving or breathing, she was unable to relieve the pain of having eaten nothing since before a 4-hour mission.

A loud growl erupted from the back of the room, the sound carrying all the way to the front. Carrie looked down at her stomach sheepishly as 18 sets of eyes turned to stare at her.

She coughed. "Sorry."

After what seemed like an eternity, the end of the lesson arrived.

The students stood to leave, but Carrie was unable to follow. As she lifted her head off the desk, a small wave of nausea crashed over her head, temporarily diminishing her sight and hearing. But it cleared, and she continued to make her way out. Upon standing, a much larger wave attacked her, along with sticks stabbing her stomach. She tried to lean over and stop the pain, but this just aided her fall to the ground. One last shallow breath, and she crashed to the floor. Everything went black.

"Oh my gosh!" A girl exclaimed and stood up with her hands clapped over her mouth. "Sir! She fainted!"

Mr Flatley hurried over in shock, "Oh my. She has." He looked to his most responsible students for assistance, but they had already come over to take care of the fallen teenager.

Rose placed her hand on Carrie's shoulder and rubbed it firmly. "Carrie? Can you hear me?"

Carrie's eyes adjusted on the blurred images before her. A face – Rose? "Uh, Rose, get out of my face." She muttered.

"What was that, Carrie?" A concerned Mr Flatley asked.

She jolted awake and sat up, becoming fully aware of her surroundings. "Nothing, sir. I'm just not really feeling all that well. D'you think I could go home?"

"Careful there, Carrie. Why don't you go and see the nurse? Yes, that is a good idea."

"Don't worry, sir. We'll take her to the infirmary." Rose smiled reassuringly as Oscar nodded.

They escorted their stumbling friend out of the classroom as Mr Flatley attempted to recompose himself so he could get through his next class.

* * *

Carrie had been resting peacefully when quick footsteps entering the infirmary awoke her senses.

Frank.

"Carrie, Rose told me what happened. This is the perfect chance to test out one of my new inventions. It's designed to quickly relieve symptoms associated with the aftermath of a vasovagal syncope episode, and-"

"No, Frank. I am not using one of your strange inventions to make me feel better. I am going to go home, like I had originally planned, get some food, and go to sleep."

"Please, Carrie, trust me on this. This may be the first test on a human, but I am sure it will work. I would never put your health at risk. Even if it doesn't work how it's supposed to, there will be minimal ill-effects."

Carrie closed her eyes and sighed. "Fine. If you're sure."

"I am 99.9% sure; just that 0.1% 'not sure,' because this is the first human test."

Frank prepared the device. It was a small electronic box hooked up to a stick pad with two wires. The pad stuck to Carrie's forehead, and Frank pressed a button on the machine to get it going.

30 seconds into the first cycle, it was going fine. Carrie couldn't feel a thing, and Frank looked encouraged.

The second cycle started with a strange clunk in the machine. Frank hit it twice, and it once again functioned smoothly.

The transition to the third cycle was not so easily fixed. The box began to spew smoke as the wires fizzed. Carrie, who had once again drifted off, was woken harshly by the loud bang of the box exploding. It sent a shock through her body, paralysing her and taking away her breath. As soon as she could move again, she shrieked high and loud.

"Frank! What did you do?!" A stunned Rose standing in the doorway yelled.

"Nothing, hopefully." Frank fussed over Carrie's hyperventilating form.

Oscar followed Rose into the room seconds later. He pushed through to have a look at Carrie, repeating, "Let me help!"

Frank stood aside with Rose, who screamed at his mistake. "What were you thinking, Frank? Testing a device on her?"

"I was almost entirely certain it would work," the team leader defended himself. "And besides, I know how it works, I can fix it."

Oscar interrupted. "Come here. You need to see this." Frank and Rose hurried over.

"She has a strange marking on her forehead." Oscar pointed to the dotted burn on her head.

Frank stepped in to explain. "That's where the pad was to connect the device to her. But it shouldn't be in that shape..."

"Were the electrical impulses sent through the whole pad, or were they concentrated in spots?" Rose asked.

"Through all of it; that's why this is strange," Frank mused.

"What if it's not a burn – or not just a burn, but also an allergic reaction?" Oscar suggested.

Rose considered this. "Yes... The burn caused the red patch, but the bumps are from an allergic reaction."

"Right you are. Good think Oscar," Frank praised before leaping to his feet in search of a cure.

"Step back, I'm going to give her a shot of epinephrine." Rose and Oscar cleared the way.

Carrie let out a strangled whimper as Frank jammed the needle into her thigh.

She breathed heavily as she calmed. The others waited by her side in case she took another turn for the worse.

Fortunately, she didn't. A few minutes later, Carrie was sitting up carefully. Her hands shook and her heart pounded painfully fast, but she was determined to get to a sitting position. Oscar helped ease her up when it look like she would drop back down.

"Are you okay?" Frank asked.

Taking a shaky breath, Carrie replied, "Yeah, I think so." She wiped away the tears slowly leaking out of her eyes. "Can I go home now?"

Frank chuckled guiltily. "I believe that would be appropriate."

Just as they were getting up to leave, an irate Mrs. King marched in. "What is going on here?"

"Well, Mrs. King," Frank began, tightening the grip he had around Carrie to support her. "Carrie, here, wasn't feeling too well, so I was just escorting her out." Rose and Oscar nodded along and attempted reassuring smiles.

Mrs. King eyed the group in suspicion, before apparently deciding that the situation was not worth her time. "Get on with it then. Get well soon, Carrie." She spat the last sentence out with difficulty.

The M.I. High team left the office with some semblance of composure, but completely lost it once they were out of range of Mrs. King. Even Carrie was laughing, however, her laughs turned to tears as the adrenaline shot wreaked havoc on her system.

Frank bid the three farewell in the car park, having decided that they all deserved the rest of the day off. He assured them that he would make their excuses to Mr. Flatley, and that they were all to go home, eat and head to bed; especially Carrie.

"No worries; I'll be right as rain in no time," Carrie asserted with a grin. "See you all tomorrow."

They all said goodbye, and returned to their respective homes; and for Frank, back to work. Time to fix that machine.


End file.
